


the care and keeping

by discordiansamba



Series: abyss of memory [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-21 15:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discordiansamba/pseuds/discordiansamba
Summary: ...of one sick amnesiac half Galra.(In which Keith gets sick, and the paladins of Voltron help him recover, each in their own way.)





	1. human side

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello, back at it again with another two part update! Time for the care and keeping of one (1) sick Keith, soon to be followed by two (2) aliens, and one (1) amnesiac half-alien attempting to take care of four sick humans, because if there's one things colds tend to do, it's spread. This one turned out pretty long, and I'm overall pretty pleased with the turnout, so hopefully y'all enjoy it just as much as I do!
> 
> Until next time!

Ugh.

He had known something was off when he went to bed yesterday, but he had expected that a good's night rest would deal with it. Instead, when he finally managed to pull himself out of bed, he quickly determined that he was _worse_ than when he'd gone to sleep last night.

His fur was damp with sweat, unbraided hair clinging to his back. He could barely even feel his tail, which hung limp behind him, just as unmotivated as he felt.

Placing a hand against his forehead, uncertain of why he was doing it, Kethe's lips twisted into a frown. He felt... _warm_. Warmer than he should.

Slumping back in his bed, he racked his brain, trying to think of what could have caused this. Yesterday's mission had been a normal one- they had liberated a planet, he'd lurked behind in the red lion while the other paladins played diplomat, Hunk had snuck him some food from the celebratory banquet...

Jolting to awareness, he sprung to his feet- and instantly regretted it, the world swimming before him. Grunting, he clutched the wall, managing to brace himself with it before he completely fell over.

Drawing in a haggard breath, Kethe took a step forward, stumbling on uncertain feet. He hadn't been this graceless since the addition of his tail, but he forced himself to stagger forward, trying to still the pounding of his heart.

Had he been poisoned? That was the only logical explanation for what was going on now. He didn't think Hunk would feed him poisoned food, so it must have been slipped into the food beforehand.

Pressing his hand against the door panel, he stumbled out, wincing at the bright lights of the corridor. For them to be this bright, it must have been well into the day cycle- just how long had he slept?

Shaking that thought off, he tried to focus his thoughts, which proved hard to do. If he'd been poisoned, had the other paladins been affected? Or was it a targeted attack against him? Racking his brain, he tried to recall if there had been any rumors about there being a Galra paladin, but couldn't recall any.

He had to... he had to get to the med bay. No, first he had to- was everyone else okay? Galra were hardy, he didn't know how the human immune system would take to poison. Would it even have an effect? What about the princess?

"Keith?"

In his half dazed state, his human name barely registered with him- it was only when the person who called out to him repeated it, that he realized he was being spoken to. Slowly turning his head, he squinted, trying to recall who this person was.

Eyes falling on the prosthetic arm, he slowly blinked. Right, this was the... this was Shiro, the black paladin. Voltron's leader.

"Shiro?" Kethe ventured, his voice weak.

He seemed fine, so maybe he hadn't been poisoned? Maybe it was just him, then.

(Better it be just him.)

There was a rush of concern in those human features of his- the ease with which he had picked up reading human facial cues was perhaps hint that he used to be one himself. They weren't like the Galra, who were stoic as a general rule, instead with animated expressions and large reactions.

Regris had once told him that he expressed himself similarly, but he didn't know if that was true or not.

Whatever the case, Shiro was on him in what felt like seconds. Bracing his shoulder with his prosthetic hand, he reached out with his human hand, brushing it under his bangs and pressing it against his forehead.

And then let out a long sigh, almost sounding exasperated. "You're sick, aren't you?"

Blinking, Kethe peered up at him. Maybe Regris was right, because the human picked up on his puzzlement right away.

Sick? He knew the word, he just didn't expect it to be applied to _him_. He had been taught a lot during his time with the Blade of Marmora, about the Galra. Few pathogens had any effect on them, so a sick Galra was cause for outright panic.

He was just about to convey that when his own mouth and nose betrayed him, expelling air and some kind of strange substance. Feeling his heart pound in his chest, he must have looked as panicked as he felt, because Shiro braced him with both hands.

"I'm guessing Galra don't sneeze." He observed, a wry smile on his face.

Kethe stared up at him, his brow furrowing. "Sneeze?"

"What you just did." Shiro told him. "Come on, let's get you to the med bay. Do you want to lean on me? No offense, but you're pretty unsteady on your feet."

Kethe didn't fight it, instead letting Shiro loop one of his arms around his shoulder, using his hand to brace his waist. It made walking easier, if not embarrassing. He hadn't been babied like this since Ulaz had first rescued him.

"Is sneezing a human thing?" Kethe ventured, feeling his panic subside a little at the casual way Shiro was treating this. It was easy for him to forget sometimes, easier than he'd like to admit, that he was also human.

To what degree still, he didn't know.

"Yeah, pretty much." Shiro told him. "I'm guessing you caught a cold."

Kethe frowned at that. "But I'm not cold?"

"Lava lamps." Shiro said- it took a moment for it to click, his head swimming.

Oh. Just a name, then.

There was something reassuring, he thought, about the paladins _not_ having all the answers about Earth. That he knew nothing about the planet that he had been born and raised on bothered him more than he wanted to admit, feeling that he should at least have _those_ memories, if nothing else.

But if the witch had wanted to reprogram him into a loyal solider of the empire, like he suspected she did, he wouldn't have needed them.

Earth was one aspect of his past that he felt comfortable talking about- to a degree. He still didn't know what a _Galaxy Garrison_ was, nor a _foster system_ , all phrases that he had heard mentioned but realized connected in some deeper way to who he was before.

He should, some part of him knew. It had been two months since he had started living on the Castle of Lions- _again_ \- and he couldn't keep avoiding the subject forever. Admitting to Allura that he didn't remember what it was like to be human had been a significant step, but since then he had made no further efforts to open up, nor to ask.

Eventually, he thought, they'd run out of patience with him.

"Keith?" Shiro's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "You okay? You kind of went quiet there."

"I- yeah, just thinking." Kethe told hm.

Shiro didn't press- if there was one thing he had come to understand about the black paladin, it was that he had a seemingly infinite well of patience.

(Unless he was dealing with _Slav_ , but that he could understand.)

"Well don't get too lost in your own thoughts." Shiro told him. "We're here, by the way."

Glancing up, Kethe realized with a blink that they were. He must have zoned out more than he thought. "I- thanks for bringing me here."

He had to avert his gaze, unable to help but feel like the fond smile directed towards him wasn't actually _for_ him. He didn't need to ask to know that they had been close, before- _like brothers_ , he had heard one of the paladins let slip.

How did it feel to have someone he viewed as a brother forget him?

He had _tried_ to remember after that- but all it got him was a headache. To him, Shiro was still just someone he'd met only two months ago- someone he had come to respect as a leader, but didn't think anything more of.

Even though he _should_. And the guilt was overwhelming.

"Come on, let's get you settled." Shiro's voice broke him from his thoughts once more, and he bit his lip, hoping that he didn't notice him sinking into them again. "I'm pretty sure you just have a cold, but I'll get Coran just in case."

Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to navigate him to an exam table, helping prop him up on it, careful of his tail. He didn't care for being in the med bay, but it wasn't as bad as it had once been.

It was so strange, being traumatized by something he couldn't even remember.

"Wait here." Shiro told him. "I'll be right back."

Watching him go, Kethe merely glanced down at his hands, clawed and purple, and wondered if he'd ever stop feeling like an imposter.

* * *

"Ah, Number Four!"

Startled, Kethe snapped to attention. He must have zoned out again, he dimly realized. He wasn't sure for how long- long enough for Shiro to find and fetch Coran, at the very least. Gaze flickering towards him, he didn't miss the way he didn't catch it.

Not that he could blame him. He knew it was hard for them to pick out just what he was looking at.

"Number One here tells me that you're feeling a bit put out." Coran's voice was calm, but it didn't do much for his nerves.

Shiro might not have acted like it was a big deal, but for him, being sick still equaled _dying_. Clearly it was different for humans, but how much of him was still _human_ , really?

"That's one way of putting it." Kethe mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I feel like I'm burning up."

"I'll be sure to give you something for fever, then." Coran noted. "Might I take your temperature?"

Lowering his hand, he nodded his head. Watching as the Altean man worked out of the corner of his eye, he didn't fail to notice how he never quite left his line of vision. It reminded him of his first time here- how he had always made an effort to be seen. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that it was being done for his benefit.

Coran was... different than Allura, he thought. In a lot of ways, but most markedly in his attitude towards him. They had met before, of course, when he had first been brought to the castle-ship with Kolivan and Antok, but it had been the first time he'd met the man since becoming aware he was _Keith_.

The Altean hadn't even blinked.

_"Guess you're not quite Number Four_ _anymore now are you?"_

(He had them ranked by height, apparently. Lance had raised such a stink at being demoted that Coran had caved and gone back to the old ranking.)

Withdrawing the thermometer, Coran let out a low hum. "Well your temperature is certainly elevated, but mostly within a safe range. Shiro tells me you have something called a cold!"

Gaze flickering back towards Shiro, he seemed to catch it this time, giving him a faint smile. Turning back towards Coran, Kethe could only frown. "If that's what Shiro says, I guess...?"

Coran caught his eye, reaching out to pat his knee. "Ah, I can understand why you'd be nervous. But it's not uncommon for hybrids to catch illness associated with both of their bloodlines!"

"And from the sound of it," Coran continued, "...you'll be good as new with a bit of rest."

"And fluids." Shiro added.

"Yes, that too." Coran said. "Now, how about I give you something for that fever? We certainly don't want it to get any higher!"

"So this _cold_ ," Kethe began, pausing to let out another one of those strange _sneezes_ , as Shiro had called them, "-it's nothing to worry about?"

"It's pretty common back on Earth." Shiro told him. "I'm a little concerned as to how you caught one out here, but you should be fine."

Shoulders slumping at that, Kethe finally felt himself exhale, as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time. Okay, so... not dying, that was good.

"Right, well!" Coran interjected. "If you will, Number Four."

Blinking, he realized that Coran was offering him a pill bottle, along with a pouch of water. Taking both from him, he glanced down at the bottle, scanning its label. It was printed in Common, rather than Altean, and he had to wonder if it was on purpose.

He was making an effort, he realized, to put him at ease.

"Thanks, Coran." Kethe told him- and he meant it, uncorking the bottle and taking two of the pills, washing them down with water. The water felt so good in his throat, that he promptly drained the rest of the pouch.

He hadn't even realized how _dry_ his throat had been until just now. Guess that was what Shiro had meant by needing fluids.

"Think nothing of it!" Coran told him. "Now, you can either rest here, or back in your quarters. The choice is yours."

"Quarters." Kethe said hurriedly. The less time spent in the med bay, the better.

"Not a problem." Shiro spoke up, crossing the room. "Come on, I'll help you back."

Nodding his head, Kethe allowed Shiro to help him down from the table. Once he had braced him again, they started back towards his room, Shiro keeping his pace slow and steady, so that it was easy to match it.

Now _he_ was the one who looked lost in thought, Kethe noticed.

Maybe it was about him, he thought. If they had been like brothers, then Shiro must have known him for a long time- maybe he'd taken care of him when he'd been sick before. Was he acting different? The same? Part of him wanted to know, but part of him was afraid to ask.

"I'll tell Allura you're not up to training today." Shiro told him finally. "You just focus on getting rest."

Nodding his head, Kethe couldn't help but study the black paladin's features, hoping that something would leap out to him. If there was a sense of familiarity there, it was only because he had gotten to know him over the past two months, nothing more.

Gaze dropping back down to his feet, he felt his brow furrow. He tried not to dwell on his lost memory, having vowed to move forward with or without them- that was what his entire trial had been about. And yet...

Maybe it was just because he was sick. His mind was taking him to places he'd rather not be.

"You know," Shiro spoke again, and he didn't miss the subtle shift in his tone, unable to place it for a moment, "...they say colds can be caused by stress."

Ah. That was _worry_ , then.

"I know your situation is complicated, Keith," Shiro began, his tone becoming gentler as he spoke, "...but you know we're all here for you, right? So if you're feeling stressed, you can always come talk to us."

"I-" Kethe began, before shutting his mouth, narrowing his eyes. He didn't know what to say to that.

He still didn't understand how they could be so _patient_ with him.

"I know there's things you'd rather not talk about just yet," Shiro told him, and he found himself torn between wanting to look up, and keeping his gaze rooted to the floor, "-but I just want you to know that you can take all the time you need."

"What if it's-" Kethe began, voice hesitant, not daring to look up, "-what if that's _never_?"

"Well," Shiro said, as if that was that, "-then I guess it'll be never."

Blinking, Kethe finally dared to look up- he didn't know what kind of expression he'd been expecting, but a _smile_ wasn't one of them.

Dropping his gaze away, he chewed his lip, before lightly pushing Shiro away. There wasn't any strength behind it, not that he had much to give at the moment. "I can- I can make it from here, Shiro."

"You sure?" Shiro asked, and he didn't dare say anything, only nodding his head. "Okay then. I'll send Hunk by with some food later."

"Yeah." He managed. "Thanks."

* * *

He must have been dozing off, because the sound of his door sliding open startled him awake, reaching for his knife in his daze.

It was only once he realized who it was, that he allowed himself to relax. Hunk, for his part, looked almost apologetic. "Aw, didn't mean to wake you, Keith."

Why hadn't he been able to smell him? Twitching his nose, his answer came in the form of clogged nostrils, causing him to grimace. That would explain that.

"S'okay." Kethe said, propping himself up in bed.

"Shiro told me you caught a cold." Hunk told him, making his way into the room, now that he was cleared to be in it. "I wanted to make you some chicken noodle soup, or well, the closest thing I can get to chicken noodle soup without having access to _actual chickens_ , but you'd probably be healthy by the time the broth finished, so I opted for something a little faster instead."

Faintly, Kethe thought he could hear his stomach growl. Placing a hand over it, he frowned, before peering up towards Hunk.

"No, yeah, I get it buddy." Hunk told him. "How's your fever?"

Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand against his forehead, brows knitting together. "The same, I think? Is it supposed to be better?"

"A little too soon for that." Hunk remarked, presenting him the tray. "It's a bit hot, so be careful."

Frowning down at the food that had been offered to him, Kethe felt his nose crinkle up. Whatever it was, it didn't look appetizing. "What is this?"

"Porridge!" Hunk told him. "Now I know it doesn't look like much, but it does a sick body good, I promise."

Frowning, Kethe watched him with a slightly suspicious gaze. Did being sick mean that he had to eat unappetizing foods? One thing he'd learned about Hunk was that he was _amazing_ in the kitchen- he'd been teaching him so much about Earth food lately, and yet it always seemed there was more left to learn.

So this was... staring down at it, he squinted, like he half expected it to attack him. Well, Hunk hadn't let him down before, so...

Hesitantly reaching for the spoon, Kethe scooped up some of the so-called porridge. Blowing on it, he decided to take the plunge, getting it over with.

Only to blink, a spark flashing through his golden eyes. "It's good."

He could hear Hunk let out a breath of relief, though he didn't understand why. If he could make something that looked as unappetizing as this taste good, then he clearly had nothing to worry about.

Gaze flickering over towards the yellow paladin, he studied him in the same way he had done Shiro. From what he had been able to gather, they didn't know each other as well- and at times, that made it easier for him to deal with.

Less to be compared to.

Hunk had let it slip once, that he'd known who he was, ever since he'd spoken to him on the way back from the Weblum. It was his voice, he'd said- his voice was the same.

He'd have to take his word for it.

He'd also been the one to show him his human face, but he didn't hold it against him. He hadn't done it on purpose, and it was clear that he had felt guilty about it afterwards. It was going to happen at some point, with the paladin bond being the way it was, so maybe it was just better that it had come out sooner, rather than later.

He still didn't know what to make of the image, though. He'd only seen it once, but it had left such a strong impression on him, that he couldn't forget it if he tried.

Hunk wasn't much of one for silence, he'd since learned. Even now, he filled it with chatter- talking about how he had made the porridge, versus how he would make it on Earth. He found it interesting, always curious to learn more about his forgotten home planet- to the extent that it didn't involve _him_.

"-when we go back to Earth, I can show you-"

"-back to Earth?" Kethe cut him off, setting down his spoon.

Hunk blinked, and he didn't know if it was because he hadn't expected to be interrupted, or if he just hadn't been sure if he was listening. "I mean... yeah? Don't you want to go back home?"

It seemed to he realized his mistake no sooner than the question had left his mouth, judging from the way he winced.

"...do you think I can?" Kethe asked, hesitant.

Clearly very glad that he hadn't offended him, Hunk let out a breath. "I mean, yeah, why not?"

Arching a brow, Kethe merely flicked his tail, not breaking eye contact with him.

"Ah." Hunk said. "Yeah, that... that might be a problem, but hey- maybe by the time we get back, Earth'll know about the existence of aliens?"

"Wouldn't that be more of a problem?" Kethe asked. "I'm Galra."

Hunk winced at that, chewing on his lip. "It might complicate things." He admitted. "But its your home too, Keith."

"How can it be my home if I don't even remember it?" Kethe asked.

"I mean... yeah, that's true, but..." Hunk trailed off. "Where _is_ home for you, then?"

Kethe contemplated the question, half not expecting it. "The Blade of Marmora," he told him, and he didn't miss the way Hunk's shoulders seemed to sag, "-and here."

And at that, Hunk perked right up.

"Aw, Keith!" Clasping his hands together, the warm smile on his face was almost blinding. "You know, this place has started to feel like home to me too."

At that, Kethe turned to face him, brow furrowing. "But you _have_ a home. I've heard you talk about it."

"Well... yeah." Hunk said, nodding his head. "But a person can have more than one home, you know."

He wasn't sure why, but the words stuck with him.

* * *

A rough hand, cool against a warm forehead.

The sensation tugged him into awareness, far less frenzied than his earlier awakening had been. Blinking awake, Kethe struggled to make sense of his surroundings, something flickering just beyond his vision before settling back into his quarters on the castle-ship.

The first thing he took note of was the fact that someone's hand was indeed pressed up against his forehead.

The second thing was that it couldn't possibly be the same hand that had tugged him into waking. It had been rough, calloused, large- all things that Pidge's hands were not.

It was with a jolt that he realized what it had been. Bolting straight up, Kethe's eyes went wide, pressing his own hand up against his forehead, trying to drag out the sensation again.

"Whoa, Keith!" Hovering just outside of the edge of his vision, Pidge frowned. "You okay there?"

Pulling his hand away from his forehead, he couldn't tell if it was because of this cold that his thoughts were swimming, or if that would have happened anyways. Drawing in a breath, it hitched in his throat, coming out in a fit that he had learned was called _coughing_.

Feeling Pidge's hand on the small of his back, she gave it a few pats. "You need some water?"

Slowly nodding his head, Kethe watched as she drew away, grabbing the pitcher from off the table. He tried and failed to remember when it had been placed there- he was more out of it than he'd thought.

Gratefully taking the offered cup, he gulped it down, cool liquid good against his dry throat. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head up against the wall, trying to sort his own thoughts.

It hadn't been much more than a faint sensation, sure, but he knew. That had been a _memory_ \- or at least, a fragment of one.

Something from _before_.

He knew from his trial that his mind still carried the faintest imprints, _afterimages_ , of what had been taken from him. None of them left a strong impression on him, and he couldn't drag them out if he tried. Forcing it just made his head hurt.

But this?

This had been the closest thing he'd had to a _memory_ ever since he had woken up on that prison ship, with no knowledge of who he was.

It was there- there was actually something _there_. Pressing a hand up against his mouth, he nearly forgot Pidge was still in the room with him, until he heard her let out a squeak.

"Wha- Keith, are you _crying_?"

Blinking, Kethe reached up a hand, feeling something _wet_ underneath his eyes. Drawing his hand away, he frowned, trying to make sense of it. Galra did not have tear ducts- they had a third eyelid to protect their eyes, so it wasn't necessary.

Apparently he did.

"Oh man, Shiro didn't say anything about _crying_." He caught Pidge mutter underneath her breath, and finally, he forced himself to pay attention to her. Gaze fixing on her face, he frowned, making note of the frantic look in her eyes.

"M'fine, Pidge." He told her, letting out a breath. "Just... thought I remembered something."

"Oh, that's all." Pidge said, her shoulders slumping in relief- before she realized the meaning of those words, eyes going wide. "Wha- you _remembered_!?"

Before he could stop her, she clasped his hands in her own, heedless of how damp his fur was with sweat. "Tell me _everything_."

Blinking, Kethe opened and closed his mouth. He didn't expect her to be _this_ excited about it- from what he could gather, among the paladins, she was the one who had known him the least. He felt the most at ease with her because of this, at times simply lurking around the green lion's hangar, watching her work.

He had assumed that because they hadn't known each other well, that his memory loss affected her the least. Had he maybe been wrong about that?

"Just- just hands. _A_ hand." Kethe told her after a moment. "Against my forehead."

Drawing away from him, for a brief span, he almost thought she was disappointed- before she gave a knowing look, folding her arms in front of her. "A tactile memory, then."

"Tactile...?" Kethe trailed off, tilting his head.

" _Haptic memory_ , to be exact." Pidge told him, adjusting her glasses, ones that he knew she didn't need. There was a story behind that, but he hadn't learned it yet. "It's your memory in relation to touch stimuli."

"So that was a...?"

Pidge nodded her head. "Probably. Which _does_ seem to suggest that perhaps the witch's memory erasure wasn't as complete as first suspected. Likely fragments remain behind, you just can't access them under normal circumstances."

She paused then, drumming a finger against her chin. "What _does_ happen when you try to remember?"

"Headache." Kethe told her. "Bad one."

Letting out a low hum, Pidge plopped down on the bed next to him, without even asking first. He'd noticed that about her- it was kind of reassuring to see a human pay so little attention to human social cues, especially since he was still trying to establish most of them for himself.

"So hands." Pidge said. "Know whose?"

Shaking his head, Kethe merely frowned. "No."

"Probably not Shiro's?" She asked.

Thinking it over, he shook his head. Shiro's hands hadn't been that calloused or that rough. "They felt really large, so maybe I was really small...?"

"Maybe your father?" Pidge ventured.

Frowning, Kethe pressed his hand up against his forehead again, dragging out the sensation once more. It came a second time, just as easy as the first. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Pidge seemed satisfied with that. "Good enough. And hey, all you had to do was catch a cold in the middle of space!"

"Not sure if it was worth it." Kethe frowned, dropping his hand. "I feel like shit."

"You _look_ like shit." Pidge supplied, brushing off his glower with ease. "Just saying."

"Why are you here anyways?" Kethe asked.

"Checking up on my fellow arm." She told him, making a show of flexing her left. "How _are_ you feeling? Coran said your fever's gone down."

Kethe blinked at that, wondering when Coran had even _been_ here. "Better, I guess?"

"Good, good." Pidge nodded. "Kolivan contacted us while you were sleeping. We told him you were sick, and he nearly flipped."

She must have been able to sense his doubt, because she gave him a shrug of her shoulders. "Okay, so he didn't _actually_ flip, but he did _react_ , which is more than you can get out of him usually."

"For Galra, illness is usually fatal." Kethe told her.

"Yeah, so we've been told." Pidge said, cringing a little. "What did you think when you woke up this morning, that you were dying?"

Letting out a snort, Kethe ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I'd been poisoned."

"Why would you be...?" Pidge began, before closing her mouth. "The banquet."

Kethe merely shrugged. "It's a possibility."

She didn't look like she was going to refute him, but she didn't look comfortable with it either. "You really think they might try to poison you because you're Galra?"

"We're not exactly popular." Kethe told her.

She couldn't refute that either, but seemed to like it even less. "Give it time. They haven't exactly had the best impression of the Galra."

He knew. He had seen the looks that the Blade of Marmora earned firsthand- of suspicion, mistrust, the feeling of them clearly not being wanted there. It bothered him, but he tried to not let it show- they were fighting _for_ them, the _least_ they could do is tolerate their presence.

Gaze flickering towards Pidge, he frowned. "Does it ever bother you?"

"What, their reactions?" Pidge blinked.

"No." Shaking his head, Kethe narrowed his eyes. "Me."

Opening her mouth to say something, Pidge quickly shut it. "You were Galra when you left us, you just didn't look it. So no."

"You sure didn't act that way after the Balmera." Kethe observed.

To her credit, she barely even flinched. "I didn't know it was _you_. I thought... I thought the red lion rejecting Allura and accepting you meant that well, _you_ were dead."

"And that now you'd have to deal with working with a Galra?" Kethe asked, not dropping his gaze this time. "You can be honest with me, Pidge."

"I- fine, I'll admit it, I didn't like it at the time." Pidge sighed, slumping back like this wasn't _his_ bed. "But even if you weren't _you_ , I'd have gotten used to it. But you _are_ you, so it doesn't matter."

Gaze flickering downwards, he twitched his tail, shifting it so that the tip of it rested on top of her face. It earned the reaction he wanted, the green paladin sputtering, jolting up, glowering at him. "Gross, Keith. Why is your tail so _damp_?"

"I'm _sick_." Kethe reminded her. "It's sweat."

"If you wanted me to move, you could have just said so." Pidge told him, pushing herself off his bed. "How about you stop asking weird questions and get some rest."

Grumbling a little, Kethe nevertheless flopped back against his bed, closing his eyes. His tail, more lively than it was earlier in the day, draped itself over his torso.

"To be fair," he added, "-I didn't know it was me either."

Letting out a faint snort, Pidge flicked his forehead. " _Goodnight_ , Keith."

* * *

"Rise and shine, Keith, it's time to do something about your stench!"

Groaning, Kethe actually contemplated going for his knife, if only to fling it, sheath and all, at Lance's face. He had since learned that the blue paladin wasn't much of one for subtlety, but he could damn well afford a lesson or two in it.

Rolling over on his side, his tail flicking out of the way, Kethe glowered at Lance without getting up. He could breathe a little better now, thank god, but his sense of smell was still shot. Still, he didn't think he _stunk_.

"I don't stink." Kethe muttered, eying the large basin Lance had dragged in with him.

"You smell like a wet cat Keith. Now get up, you bum." Lance told him, setting the basin down. "Pidge told me you're covered in sweat."

"S'fine." Kethe mumbled. "Water'll just make me more damp."

"I'll dry you off, dumbass." Lance told him, jerking his head to the side to indicate a mound of towels and a device that he had since learned was called a _hairdryer_. "Now get your fuzzy purple butt up, we need to change your sheets too."

Groaning, Kethe pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I can take care of myself, Lance."

"Nope, no arguments from the sick." Lance told him, voice stern as he rolled up his sleeves. "Off with the shirt now."

Grumbling, Kethe glowered at him for a moment longer, before he did what was asked. The entire thing was damp with sweat, his fur sticking to it. Some part of him was tempted to just chuck it at Lance's face, but he fought the urge, instead tossing it on the same pile that Lance had made with his sheets.

Watching with one eye as Lance crouched in front of the basin, grabbing a washcloth and dipping it in, squeezing off the excess moisture, Kethe frowned. He didn't see what the big deal was- he could just wash up later, when he was feeling better.

"Listen, I'm not wild about this idea either," Lance began, getting to his feet, "-but it was either me or Allura, and I was not about to let it be _Allura_."

Merely arching a brow at that, Kethe tilted his head. "I don't think Allura's even interested in me, Lance. In case you haven't noticed, I'm _Galra_."

That earned him a wet washcloth thrown at his face, which he peeled off with a faint growl. "Yeah, well she's been getting better about that lately." Lance told him. "Now give me that, I need it."

 _Then don't throw it at me_ , Kethe wanted to say, but he merely threw it back at him, smacking him in the face with it.

Peeling it off his own face, Lance merely narrowed his eyes. "Touche. Now make some room, fuzzbutt."

Scooting over, he allowed Lance some space next to him, lifting one of his arms when he motioned for him to do so. As much as he grumbled over it, the damp cloth felt good against his fur, cold against the remnants of his fever.

"You done this before?" Kethe asked after a moment.

"Done it before, had it done before." Lance told him. "Siblings."

Tail flicking behind him, Kethe frowned. He'd heard before that Lance had a large family that he had left behind on Earth, but he never thought that much about himself. _Family_ was a foreign concept to him- he knew the idea, but he didn't know what it was like to _have_ one.

Shiro was supposed to be _like a brother_ to him, but he didn't feel that way. He lacked the context that had created that relationship, so he couldn't fathom what it had been like. "What's it like?"

Glancing up, Lance blinked. "What, siblings?"

Nodding his head, Kethe merely watched the blue paladin. In the first weeks, they had always been uneasy with his gaze, but since then, they had grown accustomed to it, even if they couldn't always tell where he was looking.

"Pain in the ass." Lance told him. "Other arm."

Frowning, Kethe did what he said.

"It's a pain in the ass, but in like, a good way, you know?" Lance continued. "Didn't know how much I'd miss them until I got myself shot into space."

He didn't understand at all, but he decided not to say it. Instead, he asked a different question. "How'd you end up in space anyways?"

As far as he understood it, humans didn't have the technology to get this far into space on their own. He knew Shiro had been held prisoner by the Galra Empire at some point- that was where he had got the arm- but he didn't know how any of the others had wound up in space.

"You _sure_ you want me to answer that, dude?" Lance asked. "Show me your back."

Puzzled, Kethe frowned even as he turned, exposing his back. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because it kind of involves you?" Lance told him.

It wasn't just the cold washcloth pressed up against his back that made him flinch. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that _he_ might have been involved- he thought of himself as Galra, so even if he knew that he had been human- _more_ human- once, and had been born and raised on Earth, he couldn't help but think of himself as not having ever lived there.

"Oh." Kethe said. "Right."

There was silence between the two of them then, broken only when Lance asked him to lift his hair so he could get his neck. Closing his eyes, Kethe tried not to dwell on the question, wondering how past him- _Keith_ \- had taken action that had resulted in four humans being shot into deep space.

 _Five_ , some deeper part of his mind supplied- _five_ humans.

(He still didn't know if past him, if _Keith_ , knew he was Galra or not. He'd obviously kept it a secret if he had.)

Chewing on his lip, his gaze flicked back towards Lance, not that he noticed. He hadn't thought it has been _his_ fault that they'd ended up in space, but maybe it was?

And now he didn't even remember? Wasn't that the same thing as escaping responsibility?

Lance caught his eye, brow furrowing. "Are you looking at me? Because I'm going to be honest here, I totally can't tell."

"Just thinking." Kethe told him, gaze flickering away.

Lance frowned at that. "What's having no pupils like anyways?"

"What's _having_ pupils like?" Kethe asked in turn.

Lance blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Guess you wouldn't remember, huh. I don't... I've never _not_ had pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."

"It's the same." Kethe told him with a shrug. "I don't remember _having_ pupils, so I don't know how to explain it to you."

"Huh." Lance's frown deepened. "Good point. Never thought of it like that."

There was more silence between them then, Lance chucking the washcloth into the dirty pile, grabbing a towel. Tossing it over him, Kethe felt a surprised yowl escape him as he moved to dry him off.

Lance, damn him, let out a snort. "Space cat."

"I don't even know what a damn cat _is_." Kethe hissed, glowering back at him.

"Oh trust me on this one, Keith." Lance told him. "You're _totally_ a giant space cat."

* * *

He hated to admit it, but Lance was right about one thing- being free of sweat _did_ make him feel better. Almost no sooner than had the clean sheets been put on his bed, did he drift off to sleep again, far more peaceful than he had been before.

When he woke next, his fever had broken, and Allura was there.

"Good morning, Keith." Her greeting was cool, diplomatic, even.

He had never been able to figure out just where he stood with the Altean princess. It was clear that she was not as tense around him as she once was, when he first came aboard the castle-ship, but it was just as clear that she still held him at a distance compared to the other paladins.

He had no frame of reference as to how she had treated him before, so he had nothing to compare it to.

"Princess." He greeted her, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "It's tomorrow?"

"You slept clear through dinner and all through the night." Allura informed him. "Hunk requested that I see if you are up to joining us for breakfast this morning."

So she'd been sent by someone else, Kethe thought, running a hand through his hair. It was less damp than it had been yesterday, but he still probably needed to wash it again at some point. "I- yeah, I think I can manage."

"Very good." Allura said, her gaze flickering down towards his hair.

For a moment, her lips twisted into a frown, as if she were considering something, before she finally just decided to come out with it. "Would you like me to assist you with your hair?"

Blinking, Kethe peered up at her. Unlike the paladins, he knew she could tell when he was looking at her, as opposed to anything else in the room, but she did not grow stiff under his gaze as she once had.

"...my hair?" Kethe asked, hand straying up to it, wondering what had brought _that_ on.

"No, Lance's hair." Allura said. "Yes, _your_ hair. If I must be honest, it is a mess."

Letting out a faint snort, Kethe dropped his hand. "I've been asleep for like, an entire day, so it doesn't surprise me."

Allura seemed to frown at that. "If you do not wish for my help, you can merely say so."

Tail flicking, Kethe wondered when it was that he had said _no_. He wasn't sure what had brought it on- the princess was always hard for him to read- but it seemed _earnest_ , if nothing else.

"...if you want?"

He did not except her gaze to light up- if only for the span of a moment, before she quickly concealed it under that diplomatic expression again. "Very well, then. Move over."

Making room for the third person in twenty four hours on his bed, not knowing how to feel about this trend, Kethe turned his head so that Allura could get better access to his hair. Exposing his back was something he had been trained not to do- even before that, it would seem it had been an instinct instilled in him.

But he could trust the paladins- and Allura, for that matter. The two of them might have their differences, but he was pretty sure that if she wanted to kill him, she'd attack him head on from the front.

She had brought a hairbrush with her, he didn't fail to notice- obviously she'd been possessed of this idea before even entering his quarters. Dimly, he wondered what she had been planning on doing if he'd said _no_.

Without any further preamble, she worked her fingers into his hair, giving it a quick run through. He didn't miss the faint note of surprise she let out. "I knew it was not fur, but it does not feel like Galra _hair_ , either."

"It's human hair." Kethe told her. "I think."

Letting out a faint hum, Allura continued to work her fingers through it, before switching to the brush. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but admit it felt a bit good, his tail swishing lazily behind him, a faint rumble escaping from his chest.

"You do appear to be feeling better." Allura observed.

"Think my fever broke overnight." Kethe told her. "My nose is still clogged though."

"Take today off from training too." Allura said. "Shiro tells me that the most dangerous time is when you're starting to feel better."

"That makes no sense, but okay." Kethe said. "He'd know best."

"Yes, it seems so strange that humans have an illness that they keep getting again and again, from the sound of it." Allura told him. "We had nothing like that on Altea."

Squinting, Kethe couldn't help but frown. "You mean I could get this _again_?"

"That is what I was told." Allura said, setting aside the brush and setting herself to the task of braiding his hair. "Do you wear it like this because of Kolivan?"

Sputtering, Kethe fought the urge to jerk his head back, knowing it wouldn't end well. Opening his mouth to deny it, he quickly shut it, realizing that he'd given himself away by his reaction alone.

"You secret is safe with me, Keith." Allura told him, her tone light, _playful_ , even. She was _teasing_ him, some part of him realized, giving her an irritated flick of his tail.

"...better be." He muttered, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"I do not take my promises lightly." Allura said, withdrawing her hands. "There, all finished. Thank you for allowing me to do this."

Blinking, he glanced back at her, giving her a slight frown. Why was she thanking him?

It was only then that it hit him- that the princess had been attempting to _bond_ with him.

Actually, come to think of it... reflecting back on the previous day, he wondered how he hadn't realized it before. Each and every one of them had made an attempt to come see him- had they... had the paladins been trying to _bond_?

Turning his head away from the princess, Kethe ducked his head. "Y-yeah. You go on ahead, I'll be there in just a second."

She seemed to frown, but said nothing more, simply picking up her hairbrush and making her exit. It was only once she left that Kethe looked up, pressing his hand over his mouth.

It was a deeper part of him that informed him he'd never smiled this _big_ before.

How _couldn't_ he?

They _wanted_ him- the paladins, Coran, Allura- they wanted _him_.

Home. He had told Hunk that this place was a _home_ to him, but it would seem that those words rung more true than he ever could have imagined.


	2. alien side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was letting two aliens and an amnesiac half alien take care of them a good idea? Hell no. He just didn't realize what a bad idea it was until Keith had left him in a freezing room. By the time his fuzzy purple ass finally wandered back his way, Lance had huddled up in the corner of his bed, having cocooned himself in blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it's the next part! After this one, this story will be going dark for awhile again, but I'll eventually come back to it. It'll probably be another two parter featuring perspectives from Regris and Matt! I do have something else in the works- have for awhile, but I wanted to wait until season six aired before I actually put it into full swing. Big mood is when you want to wrap the cast of an AU up in a big hug and promise them they won't have a Shiro clone trying to kill them in this universe... y'all bit that bullet, godspeed.
> 
> Until next time, whenever that will be!

Catching Keith's cold hadn't really been in his plans.

Looking at his fellow paladins, Shiro was quite certain it had been in _none_ of their plans. They had all jumped at the bit when it came to looking after Keith, that none of them had really stopped to consider the possibility that he might be contagious.

A disconnect between knowing that he was part human, and him not looking it, he guessed. Keith might have forgotten his own humanity, but the same couldn't be said for any of them- so in hindsight... yeah, that had been really foolish of them.

He suspected that he wasn't alone in not wanting to change their actions, even knowing this, but well... they probably should have taken a little more care to avoid contamination. For the moment, all four of them were confined to the med bay, while Allura and Coran worked to figure out a plan of action.

_With_ Keith, he noticed.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Lance asked, punctuating his words with a loud sniffle.

"Whatever it is, I don't have a good feeling about it." Pidge groaned. "No offense to Keith, but I don't trust his knowledge of human ailments."

"Did he seriously not know what _sneezing_ was?" Lance asked.

"Or _coughing_?" Hunk chimed in.

"Guys, it'll be fine." Shiro told them, letting out a small cough of his own. "It's not like we can't help them along with a little insight of our own."

Though he could understand why they were worried. He was glad that Keith had fully recovered, his eyes taking on their bright shine again, the color of his fur less dull- but he was willing to admit the paladins _did_ kind of have a point.

Keith was the only paladin not currently ill, and therefore, the most likely paladin that Coran and Allura would discuss what to them, was a mystery ailment. And... yeah, as much faith as he had in Keith, he couldn't claim total confidence in what he might have to tell them.

Not that he wouldn't do his best- he was sure he would. But well... if he had to be honest, then yeah, Keith's amnesia was definitely going to be a problem here. It floored him sometimes the things he just _didn't know_ anymore- when he had first started living on the castle-ship again, he'd assumed that the memories he'd lost were simply personal ones.

He'd severely underestimated the depths of what the witch had done to him.

"Ugh, I am seriously not in the mood for this." Pidge groaned. "I can't _believe_ I caught Keith's cold."

"We _all_ caught Keith's cold." Hunk pointed out. "I guess that's just one more thing to keep in mind, huh."

"It's probably a good thing that Galra don't get sick easily." Pidge muttered, a cough escaping her. "I was reading up on Galra illnesses, and no wonder he seemed so freaked when you found him in the hall, Shiro."

"That bad, huh?" Shiro asked.

"The highest survival rate for night chills is thirty three percent, and that's considered _high_." Pidge informed him.

"Geez Pidge, do you mind maybe not talking about dying right now?" Lance interjected, groaning as he let out another loud sniffle. "Ugh. I can't believe I caught a cold in space. I can't believe _Keith_ caught a cold in space. Who catches a cold in space!?"

"I mean, I'm sure he didn't _mean_ to." Hunk said.

"Well yeah, nobody _means_ to get sick." Lance said, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't mean I can't get annoyed by it."

"Just be careful what you say." Shiro advised him, watching the blue paladin with a frown. "He can be a little sensitive. We don't want to risk the progress we've made."

"No offense Shiro, but I'm not sure I've got the energy to tiptoe around the amnesiac right now." Lance told him. "But I'll try."

"Do." Shiro told him.

He was aware that constantly having to self censor themselves wasn't easy on the other paladins. Allura was largely unfazed by it, probably from some aspect of her upbringing, but for the rest of them, it was a constant challenge of never letting too much slip.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't rough on him either. Because it was.

How could it not? Keith was his brother, practically family- and now he was just... _gone_.

No, he wasn't gone. Keith was still here, he just... he was _his_ Keith anymore. Not his brother. A stranger.

A stranger wearing his brother's face, speaking in his brother's voice. Like a bodysnatcher.

But no. Kethe wasn't that. There might have been a time, at his lowest possible moment, that he had thought that- but Kethe wasn't that. And that he could have even thought that, even for a moment, disgusted him.

He had changed, yes- that much was evident in the fact that he'd actually let people help him when he was sick. The Keith _he_ knew would have never even admitted to being sick in the first place, powering through whatever illness that he might have.

But he just... sometimes he couldn't help but mourn that scrappy kid he'd first spotted on the other end of a classroom, trying to pretend he wasn't interested in his guest lecture. The sullen orphan, who got himself into fights, who didn't trust anyone until he let Shiro in his life, and even then, not for some time.

The feeling of getting him back alive, and yet somehow not... it was not one that he knew how to deal with. Nobody taught you what to do when you lose your baby brother to freaky space witch amnesia.

_Get his memories back_ was just downright idealistic at this point, he knew. Pidge theorized that there were still fragments, but nothing big.

Closing his eyes, Shiro forced such thoughts back. When he was sick probably wasn't the best time to be thinking about such complicated stuff.

* * *

This was a bad idea.

Was he glad to go back to his room? Yeah, sure. He didn't exactly want to spend the next few days confined to the med bay with everyone else. He liked his privacy, okay!

Was letting two aliens and an amnesiac half alien take care of them a good idea? Hell no. He just didn't realize what a bad idea it was until Keith had left him in a freezing room. By the time his fuzzy purple ass finally wandered back his way, Lance had huddled up in the corner of his bed, having cocooned himself in blankets.

Keith merely cocked his head to one side, tail swaying behind him. "How can you sleep like that?"

"I can't!" Lance blurted out, feeling his teeth chatter. "It's too damn cold in here!"

Frowning, Keith glanced up, before peering back down at Lance. His face was set in blank confusion. "You have the worst fever. This is the fastest way to get it down."

"What, by _freezing me to death_?" Lance protested, any fire in his words totally ruined by the snot dripping down his nose. "Not all of us have _fur_ , Keith."

And he was damn sure it was the fur that was keeping him from freezing his butt off in here. Which, by the way, was totally unfair- his coat didn't even look that thick!

Ugh, he was almost _glad_ Keith had freaky space witch amnesia. If this had been the same Keith he'd marked for his rival, he would have hated him seeing him this pathetic.

On the other hand, if he didn't have freaky space witch amnesia, then he probably wouldn't be enduring a freezing room right now. Apparently the Alteans knew less about human biology than he'd thought- either that, or they were asking _Keith_ about it, which was not exactly the best source of information.

To his credit, Keith merely blinked, as if this hadn't occurred to him. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." Lance said. "Now can you _please_ turn the temperature up like, at least a little?"

He could have sworn that Keith's tail drooped, but the half-Galra did slowly nod his head. "Yeah, I can- sorry, I didn't- I forgot."

And that's when it hit him that this wasn't Allura or Coran's fault- that _Keith_ had been the one to select the temperature of the room. Keith, who had _fur_.

Watching as the red paladin silently turned up the temperature, Lance felt the chattering of his teeth stop, letting out a long sigh as the room steadily grew warmer. Groaning, he flopped back in bed, finally freeing himself of the cocoon of blankets that he'd entangled himself in.

At least that problem was dealt with.

New problem- he was pretty sure Keith was sulking.

Honest to god _sulking_. The tail really helped, drooping the way it did. He had just been trying to help, and he'd rebuked him. And damned if it didn't make him feel bad, but nope- no, he was not forgiving him that easily for turning his room into an icebox.

"Is that better?" Keith asked, his tone somehow managing to be prickly in spite of the obvious signs that he was _actively sulking_. He was no expert, but he was pretty sure the occasional disconnect between his tone and his body language had _everything_ to do with the whole Galra transformation thing.

"Yeah, better." Lance told him. "I hope you didn't set any of the other rooms that low, cause if you did, ya might wanna go fix that right quick before we all freeze to death."

Thank god for Keith's expressive eyebrows, for they sure as heck made reading him a lot easier. Case in point, when they knit together like that- that usually meant he'd just asked a weird question.

Or something _Keith_ thought of as a weird question, at least.

"You had the highest fever. It was dangerous." Keith stated plainly. "Coran told me humans can die of high fevers."

And dammit Keith, that wasn't fair- because now? Now he felt bad.

(Also he had no clue where _Coran_ had picked up that tidbit of information. Someone must have mentioned it to him offhand when he had been taking their vitals during those first few days on the Castle, when they'd all still been getting used to each other.)

But at least it explained Keith's goddamn _sulking_. Had he honestly been that worried he was just going to roll over and die? From a _cold_?

Then again, sickness was a much more serious issue for the Galra, so he guessed it _did_ kind of make sense.

If he had to be honest... Lance was touched. Mildly annoyed, yes, but touched.

"Aw, does space cat care about me~?" He teased, giving Keith a playful grin.

"I'm not a space cat, Lance." Keith hissed, narrowing his eyes. "And of course I care."

Oh. Uh.

He hadn't been expecting that.

"Anyways," Keith said, turning on his heel, "-I have to go help Coran. Let us know if there's anything you need."

"I- yeah, sure. Keep that in mind." Lance said, slowly nodding his head, watching as Keith stalked out of the room.

That was uh... had Keith always been that blunt? I mean, sure yeah, he was never one to mask his opinions, but he didn't think that he did it in regards to like, _people_. Hell, he'd been pretty sure that the guy _barely tolerated_ him when he'd vanished.

So this was uh... huh. He actually did not know what to make of this development.

And honestly? He was _way_ too sick to be dwelling on it right now anyways. Now that his room wasn't a friggin icebox anymore, it was high time that he catch up on his beauty rest.

* * *

"Well I'm afraid I just don't see it here, Number Four." Glancing back towards the red paladin, Coran couldn't help but frown. "Are you sure he called it _porridge_?"

"Positive, Coran." Keith told him.

"Hm," scooping up the cookbook that their yellow paladin had put together, Coran turned around, leaning against the counter, "-well I'll give it another look through. Maybe I just missed it."

Paging through the book- more of a binder, really- Coran searched its pages for the desired recipe. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith watched him with marked curiosity, having perched himself on a stool, both feet planted firmly on it, gripping the front of it with his hands.

"Do you think maybe he didn't write it down yet?" Keith asked, tilting his head.

"It's possible." Coran remarked. "It hasn't been that long since you recovered from your own bout of sickness, so perhaps he just hasn't had the chance to. Now you're sure this is what humans eat when they're sick?"

"Positive." Keith told him. "There was also something about chicken noodle soup."

"Well I know what a _noodle_ is, but I'm afraid my knowledge of _chickens_ is rather lacking." Coran noted. "Must be some Earth thing."

"I think it's a bird." Keith ventured, squinting. "But I'm not sure how they make it into noodles."

"Meat noodles, eh? Well I'll give you Earthlings one thing- you're nothing if not creative in the kitchen." Coran told him, slamming the cookbook shut. "I'm afraid it's just not in here, Number Four."

Watching his face fall at that, Coran set down the cookbook, giving him a smile. "You could always just ask. I'm sure Number Two would be more than happy to tell you."

Brows drawing together, the lazy swaying of Keith's tail grew a bit more animated. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

Clicking his tongue, Coran nodded his head. Yes, he'd been suspecting something like that ever since Keith approached him with the idea. He'd that insistent look in his eye, the one he got whenever an idea worked it's way into his head.

"Well, why don't we have another look through this, then?" Coran asked, scooping up the cookbook. "Maybe there's some other kind of soup that we can put together in here."

Perking up at the offer, Keith removed himself from the stool, with such a natural grace that one would never guess he hadn't been born with a tail.

Oh there was evidence of it, sure enough. Traces where the bone had been broken and reformed, forced to grow the way Zarkon's witch wished it to. His tail was flesh and bone, but he suspected that it had belonged to another creature before it had been implanted on Number Four. His body was not so unlike the Castle- a blend of science and magic, coming together to create something new.

But unlike the Castle, it was no product of wonder, but that of _horror_. He could not even begin to imagine how much pain he had to have been in during it all, so in a way, one could say it was a small mercy that he did not remember any of it.

Not that Number Four _himself_ was a horror- goodness no. Perish the thought. The circumstances that had made him this way were monstrous, but there wasn't a lick about the lad that was monstrous in and of himself.

How he'd even survived was testament to the red paladin's unyielding spirit, a trait which had not been lost in his rebirth.

"Coran?" Tilting his head, Keith frowned. "You okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm just fine, Number Four." Coran told him- no need to trouble him with his own thoughts, not when he had enough on his plate as it was already. "Now I _did_ see a soup on page thirty five that looked like it might do the trick, so why don't we see if we can whip up something a bit close to it?"

Tail flicking behind him, very much a part of him now, Keith grinned. "Thanks, Coran."

"Oh think nothing of it." Coran told him. "It's not like we can just leave your fellow paladins to starve, now can we?"

* * *

Alright, if he was gonna be honest, maybe he _did_ freak out a little when he opened his eyes to find a pair of golden ones staring straight into them.

Letting out a yelp, Hunk pushed himself up with a jolt, heart pounding in his chest- before he let out a long sigh, realizing that it was just Keith. To his credit, the red paladin had barely even reacted, merely peering up at him from where he had crouched by his bed.

Where he had apparently been watching him sleep. Okay, so that part was a little weird.

"Oh man Keith, you gave me a scare." Hunk told him. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long." Keith told him, tail swishing on the ground behind him. "I brought food."

And so he had, Hunk noticed. There was a tray set down by his feet, a bowl of what looked to be soup resting on it.

"Aw, Keith!" Hunk exclaimed, settling back into bed, propping his back up against the wall. "Did you make that for me?"

"Coran helped." Keith told him, picking up the tray, taking great care to place it over his knees. "But I did most of the work."

"Don't worry," he added, a faint hint of a grin on his face, "-I wore actual gloves this time."

Unable to help himself, Hunk shuddered. He still had nightmares about the first time Keith had tried to help him in the kitchen, and just ended up getting fur everywhere. He'd had to scrap the whole dish. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that Keith being covered in it now would be a problem.

"Well thanks, Keith, I really appreciate it." Hunk told him. "What is this, tomato soup? Did you use one of my recipes?"

Or well, close enough to tomato soup, at least. The flavor was pretty darn similar, though it had an orange tint to it that made him feel more like he was eating pumpkin soup sometimes.

Nodding his head, Keith frowned. "I wanted to make that _porridge_ stuff, but you didn't write it down anywhere. And we couldn't find any chickens."

Chickens? It took him a minute, but he could sort of recall mentioning something about chicken noodle soup to Keith back when he'd been sick. He was amazed he even remembered.

"Keith, if you could find chickens in the middle of space, I'd be very impressed." Hunk told him.

"Lance found a cow." Keith replied.

"...yeah, fair." Hunk admitted. "Guess maybe space chickens aren't too far fetched after all."

"Guess not." Keith told him, quirking a grin.

Picking up his spoon, Hunk dipped it in the soup, carefully blowing it on a bit before putting it in his mouth. This was the first thing Keith had ever made for him, so he couldn't wait to-!

Oh no. Keith had mixed up the space salt with the space _sugar_.

Oh no, it must have shown on his face too. Because Keith's face fell, which just made him feel like he'd kicked a puppy or something. Even his _tail_ stilled, freezing in place.

Jolting to his feet, Keith picked the tray up, bangs concealing his eyes. "Sorry, I'll get you something else."

"No, Keith, it's fine!" Hunk blurted out, reaching up to grip the tray himself. "You made this for me, I want to eat it."

Peering out from behind his bangs, Keith gave him a skeptical look. "I saw your face Hunk, you don't have to lie to me."

"I mean it, Keith." Hunk told him, finally able to reclaim the tray from him, setting it back down in his lap.

"You don't have to force yourself to-"

"Nun-uh, not having that." Hunk cut him off. "In this house, we do not waste food."

Keith merely gave him a blank look, brows furrowing. "Hunk, this is a spaceship."

"Figure of speech." He told him. "It doesn't even taste that bad, just a little weird."

Seriously though- Keith had made this! For him! Even if it tasted terrible- which it _didn't_ , it was just a little off- he still would have forced himself to eat every bite.

Because this? This right here wasn't just a bowl of tomato soap- it was a bowl of friendship.

...and okay, that was a corny line. He'd admit it. But he'd also stick to it.

Keith had always been such an enigma to him, ever since the Garrison. There was something about the withdrawn ace pilot that caught his attention- Lance would say he was just a loner, to just leave him, but Hunk always just thought he seemed kind of _lonely_.

He'd always kind of wanted to go up to him, to maybe make a bit of small talk- maybe even become friends, but he could never think of a good way to break the ice. Then the Kerberos disaster had happened, and he lost any chance of that.

Or so he'd thought.

Suddenly they were both paladins of Voltron, defending the universe together. And it turned out that it was a lot easier to break the ice with a guy you'd linked minds with. He found out that Keith would laugh at his dumb jokes- turns out he was a big fan of sight gags, who knew? He found out that he was actually just kind of awkward- which he could totally relate to.

And then he'd vanished.

When they found him again, he didn't know them anymore- didn't know _himself_. Everything that they had built... it was no longer there. They were strangers to him.

This time, Hunk decided _he_ was going to take the initiative. Mending his clothes to fit his new, taller body had been his way of dragging him back into their circle- and it had _worked_.

Now here he was, wearing the clothes he had altered for him, having done his damnedest to make him a bowl of soup because he was sick, because he wanted to return the favor. How could he possibly _not_ eat it?

For a moment, he almost thought Keith would insist again- but instead he shifted on his feet, acting as if he didn't quite know where to look. "Will you... when you're better, will you show me what I did wrong?"

And at that, Hunk couldn't help but beam.

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Keith? Have you seen Pidge?"

Oh. She hadn't realized it when she'd first entered the lounge, but it appeared he'd been asleep. Watching as he uncurled himself, giving a loud yawn, Keith blinked blearily at her. "Pidge?"

Well, while it hadn't been her intent to interrupt his nap, there was no changing that now. "She is not in her room. I was hoping perhaps she would be in here, but clearly that is not the case."

Getting to his feet, Keith linked his fingers, raising them above his head, his joints popping as he stretched. Yawning a second time, he scratched the back of his head, frowning. "Have you checked the green lion's hangar yet?"

"No, not yet." Allura told him. "But I suppose you are right, I should have checked there first."

She just assumed, that for whatever reason, the paladins would stay put when they were sick. Keith had barely left his room during his bout with illness, but she supposed that assuming they would all do the same had been her mistake.

Mounting the couch, Keith gave her a small, if not somewhat strained, smile. "Want me to go get her, since I'm up?"

Inwardly, she couldn't help but flinch. She felt a tad guilty for waking him, though she doubted that was the effect Keith was trying to achieve.

Things remained... well, _awkward_ between the two of them. Ever since they had escaped from the alternate reality, she had been trying to make strides in reconnecting with the red paladin, but it was not progressing quite as fast as she had hoped.

He was Galra, yes, but she was starting to understand that this did not make him some kind of monster. He was simply Keith- and since returning to his role as paladin of Voltron, he had shown himself to be nothing but worthy of her trust- as indeed, the rest of the Blade of Marmora had.

She was not so stubborn that she could not see when she had erred in her judgement.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." Allura told him. "I will check the records room, in case she is there."

Nodding his head, Keith moved to leave the lounge- before he stopped, peering back towards her. "Should I bring her back to her room if I find her?"

"Yes." Allura said, firmly. "The sick should not be wandering about."

He gave her another faint smile, and she felt herself return one in kind. It was not _so_ bad, really, now that she had a chance to get used to it.

Though the first time she had seen Keith's features worn on a Galra face... she had felt her heart stop. It had been like a nightmare become real.

Her father's lion, in the hands of a _Galra_. The thought had twisted at her when it returned to the Castle of Lions, the Blade that had accompanied Hunk stumbling out of it. She had been furious- furious that the red lion would accept such a creature, furious that it had shut _her_ out for it.

When Hunk and Shiro both stepped in to defend him, she'd felt so betrayed. Not only was there now a Galra in her father's lion, it seemed set to tear the team apart with its choice.

And then the Galra turned out to be _Keith_.

Keith, who part of her had feared dead.

Keith, who turned out to have been Galra from the very moment that he stepped foot in the Castle of Lions. Who she might never know for sure if he knew or not.

That still ate at her, she would not lie. But it was not as if she could blame Keith- or well, _Kethe_ , she supposed- for it.

That it had been an _Altean_ that had done this to him... she could not help but feel a certain sense of guilt over that. _She_ was Altean, and a gifted one at that, so surely there must have been some way for her to restore his memories, but she simply did not know _how_.

"I hope that will not be too much trouble for you." Allura told him, pushing all such thoughts away.

Letting out a snort, Keith arched a brow. "Who, Pidge? She's _tiny_. How much trouble can she possibly be?

Oh, he would very much come to regret that.

* * *

"Keith, I swear, if you don't put me down right now, I'll bite."

She meant it too, dammit- just because he'd gotten a little bigger, didn't mean he could just sling her over his shoulder like this! She was a human being, not a sack of potatoes, for crying out loud!

And okay, sure, maybe she shouldn't have snuck out on her room to work on her latest project- but come on, being confined to her room all day? With nothing to do? She was going to go mad at this rate!

Besides, her cold wasn't even _that_ bad. Sure, her nose was clogged up to the point that she was really only breathing out of one nostril, but it wasn't like it was going to kill her.

Boredom? Boredom totally would.

Keith, damn him, just snorted.

"I've _seen_ your teeth, Pidge." He told her. "That's not a threat."

"Not all of us can have _fangs_ , Keith." Pidge told him.

"Better than blunt baby teeth." Keith said.

"Need I remind you that _you_ had these same _blunt baby teeth_ once?" Pidge pointed out- and kicked herself the moment she'd said it. Slung over his shoulder like she was, she could feel Keith flinch under her.

Tact- never really her strong suit. When she was sick? A lot less so. But that was... yeah, she couldn't help but feel like she'd directly gone for his weak point.

(Great battle strategy. Dick friend move.)

At least Keith just seemed to brush it off. "Well, glad _that's_ over with."

Exhaling, Pidge felt her shoulders slump. That could have gone a lot worse.

"You don't have to, you know." Keith spoke up. "Dance around the changes, I mean."

Frowning, she peered up at him- though from this perspective, all she could see was the back of his head. "You just always seem like you don't want to talk about them."

He shifted a bit under her, and she doubted it was just to adjust her weight. She was pretty sure that she weighed like, next to nothing to him. That'd annoy her a lot more, had she not once seen him scoop up Shiro like he was nothing.

And that was _before_ he had turned Galra.

In hindsight, how the hell did none of them notice that Keith was half alien?

"It's not my favorite subject," Keith began, "-but I know that I'm different than I was before."

She sensed he didn't just mean _physically_.

"And not just, _physically_ , either," okay, she had not expected him to admit that much out loud, given how evasive he had been in the past two months, "-I, I'm-"

Maybe she couldn't see his face from this angle, but she _could_ see his tail, which was about as dead a giveaway as anything. It was swishing in anxious circles, back and forth, back and forth.

"-I'm not... _have_ I changed?"

It was a question that she sensed took him a lot of courage to ask- she just had no idea why he'd chosen to do it while he had her slung over his shoulder. But fine, if this was how this conversation was going to happen, she could deal with that.

Even if she was a little surprised that _she_ was the one he came to with it.

"You want the nice answer or the actual answer?" She asked.

"Actual answer." Keith told her, his tone more curt than he likely intended to make it. "Please."

Letting out a long sigh, she frowned. "Yes."

As expected, he flinched. He didn't break his stride, but his tail went stock still, almost limp. "Oh."

"But," she cut in before he could say anything else, "-probably not as much as you think you have."

"Then why do I feel like such an imposter?"

She was pretty sure he hadn't meant to ask that. Not out loud, at least.

"Because you're in the middle of an existential crisis, dumbass." She told him. "Listen Keith, I'm not going to claim that I know what you're going through, because I _don't_. But what I _do_ know is that your issues aren't going to get any better if you keep running them around in your head without ever asking anyone for help."

"I'm not-" Keith began, but she cut him off.

"Uh, yeah you are." She told him. "Keith, trust me, none of us think you're an imposter."

"I could be." He said- and god, she didn't even need to look at his damn face to know what kind of expression was on it. "What if you're all wrong? What if I'm just some fake?"

Okay, she needed to not be slung over his shoulder for this kind of talk. With a grunt, she squirmed her way from his grip, landing on the floor with less grace than she would like. Jerking her head up to look at him, she nearly sighed- yep, that was exactly the expression she expected to see.

Had _that_ been what was been bothering him all this time? Half of her just wanted to straight up deny it, but she could sense that wasn't going to solve the root problem. If he was seriously worried about it, it was better to address it.

"Alright, so _assuming_ you're some kind of fake," she began, not missing the way he tensed, "-what would be the point?"

He blinked, tilting his head. "To get you to trust me?"

"Fair enough." Pidge admitted. "Then why are you _Galra_?"

Opening and closing his mouth, Keith's brows knit together. "I... don't know?"

"See?" She asked. "If Zarkon's witch wanted to make some kind of fake Keith, there's no reason for her to make a fake _Galra_ Keith, not if her objective is earning our trust. Besides, we all know that the witch doesn't have any means of controlling you- we've checked. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?"

"I could be some kind of reject?" Keith ventured.

Okay, that was fair. More believable than the first idea, at least, even though it still had it's fair share of problems.

"Alright, so say that's true." She began. "On one hand, that would mean the real Keith's still out there somewhere, and that's... not something I like to think about, but you're still _you_."

That just got her a puzzled look, not that she could blame him. Words weren't always her strongest suit. "But then I wouldn't be _Keith_."

"No, you wouldn't." Pidge admitted. " _But_ ," and she stressed the _but_ , because damnit, it was important, "-in that case, we've lived with you for two months, dude. We care about _you_."

Keith's expression just grew more puzzled, brows knitting together. "But don't you want me to be Keith?"

Did she? Well yeah, because the alternative wasn't pretty. But putting that aside and focusing on the question from a more personal level- even if this somehow wasn't Keith, it wasn't like she didn't like having him around.

Who else would listen to her chatter on about her latest project, even when he didn't understand a lick of it? Sure, she could do that with Hunk, and he would get her, but sometimes a silent sounding board was just what she needed, and unlike Lance, Keith never complained.

So even if this somehow _wasn't_ Keith- a failed clone of some sort that had turned out way more Galra than the original, though how you even fuck up a clone that bad she had no idea- she wasn't about to toss him out the nearest airlock if that turned out to be true.

"We want you to be _you_ , fuzzbutt." Pidge told him. "Whatever that means, whoever that is. Doesn't matter who you were before, or even if you _weren't_ anyone before, which, by the way, you totally _were_ , because your body actively shows signs of having been physically altered-"

"-wait, it does?"

"-so you had to have been- wait, what?" Pidge asked, stopping herself short. "Keith, you've had like _three_ full scale physical examinations done on you, and you mean to tell me you never asked for the results even _once_?"

He flinched at the question, and she could only let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Christ Keith, you could have saved yourself so much inner turmoil if you'd just _asked_."

God though. If that wasn't a fucking Keith move.

* * *

When Shiro finds him, he's fast asleep in the kitchen.

He must have drifted off at some point, half eaten meal still in front of him. With a careful hand, he slid it away from him, but didn't put it away. He might still want it when he woke up.

He looked so peaceful that he didn't want to bother him- he'd been running around the castle-ship almost all day, helping Allura and Coran. Smiling, he quietly crept towards the cabinets, searching for a mug. It's not easy in the dark, but he doesn't want to turn the lights on at risk of waking Keith up.

"...shiro?"

Wincing, Shiro glanced back, giving Keith a sheepish look. "...this is a dream?"

He's still half asleep, but the deadpan expression Keith gives him is a clear giveaway that he's not buying it. Somehow the lack of pupils just sells it more. "No it's not."

"No it's not." Shiro repeated.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Keith asked, letting out a faint yawn. "You're sick."

"I know, don't worry." Shiro told him. "I'm just getting some tea."

God, had he ever been thankful when it turned out there was an Altean equivalent to tea. He liked a good pot of coffee as much as the next guy, but nothing really beat a good cup of tea.

At least, he thought so. Pidge and Keith seemed to share a mutual disdain for it, but that came as little surprise- they were caffeine bugs, of the coffee variety, even though he was half convinced that caffeine didn't even have an _effect_ on Keith.

Turned out, he still preferred it- or the space equivalent of it, at least. He wasn't going to lie, he'd secretly kind of sulked for awhile. They had a lot of ground to cover, so being able to connect over a good cup of tea had been an admittedly brief fantasy of his.

That was before the reality of the severity of Keith's memory loss had sunk in.

Shoulders slumping, Keith leaned back in his chair. "Good, because I was worried I'd have to drag you back to bed."

He probably could, too. He'd been unreasonably strong even before his appearance had changed, and since then, he'd only managed to get stronger.

"No worries there." Shiro promised him. "You want some?"

"Do I want _leaf water_?" Keith asked, making a face. "Pass."

"You know, coffee is just bean water." Shiro pointed out.

"Yeah, and it has _actual flavor_. Tea just tastes like hot water." Keith told him, folding his arms in front of him.

Laughing, Shiro shook his head. "That's because you never let yours steep for long enough. I always told you that-"

The words slipped out without meaning to, really. He couldn't help it- the flow of the conversation had been so natural that with his back turned, he'd nearly forgotten anything had changed.

But things had.

"...you always told me what?"

The question caused him to nearly drop the tea bin, turning sharply on his heel. A pair of expectant eyes meet his, glowing in the dark like two pinpricks.

"You- you actually want to know?" Shiro asked, sounding hesitant.

Which Keith very quickly picked up on, gaze- presumably- flickering away from him. "I mean... it's jut about tea, right?"

There was a hesitance to his voice that made him sound almost vulnerable. "It's just... you never ask questions."

Keith frowned, a clawed hand catching the edge of his fork, rocking it back and forth with a finger as if to distract himself. "I talked to Pidge about some things."

"Some things?" Shiro asked, setting down the tea bin.

Keith nodded his head, narrowing his eyes. Even in the dark, it was impossible to deny his change, not with the faint illumination his eyes gave off. He'd be lying if he said they didn't bring back bad memories, and that it had taken him time just to hold his brother's gaze.

Now he was used to them. They weren't expressive in the same way human eyes were, but they weren't without their own life.

"Yeah." Keith said. "Some things."

Leaning back against the counter, Shiro studied him. He might not have the same kind of night vision as Keith had, but living for so long as a captive of the Galra Empire had definitely improved his night vision.

"And that makes you want to ask questions now?" Shiro asked, no trace of accusation in his voice. This was a good thing, as far as he was concerned.

Although he still did mean it- if Keith decided that he never wanted to know about his past life, so to speak, then he had decided to accept that. He knew a little about memory loss, but he also knew that Keith... well, he wasn't getting his back, at least not through any traditional means.

His missing year would come back with time. Keith's missing eighteen would not.

"I don't know." Keith confessed after a moment. "But... just, little things, maybe."

"Little things." Shiro repeated. "Like tea."

Glancing towards him, Keith gave him an awkward smile. "Yeah."

"Up to you." Shiro told him, holding up his hands. "You sure you want to talk about it?"

"I mean, if you keep asking me that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to change my mind but for now... yeah." Keith told him. "I still do."

"Fair enough." Shiro said. "Because your tea habits were _the worst_."

"Well now I'm just offended on behalf of past me." Keith remarked.

"You don't even _know_ past you." Shiro pointed out.

"Still offended." Keith told him. "If you want to talk about gross habits, what's with all the cream you put in your coffee?"

"I put a normal amount of cream in my coffee, Keith." Shiro told him. "Not everyone likes to just guzzle it straight from the pot."

Narrowing his eyes, Keith watched him with suspicion. "In my defense, _I've_ never done that."

Which was fair. Past Keith had definitely done that. Current Keith... well, he'd never _caught_ him doing it, but he couldn't say with one hundred percent certainty that he wasn't lying out of his ass right now.

"So just in _your_ defense." Shiro noted.

"Gotta look out for number one." Keith told him with a shrug.

Letting out a snort, Shiro's brows shot up. "Okay, who taught you that phrase?"

"Lance." Keith readily supplied.

Of course it was. He needed to have a talk with him at some point in regards to teaching Keith weird things.

Maybe Kethe wasn't _his_ brother, not the sullen orphan with discipline issues that he had taken under his wing. But he was _still_ his brother, and memories or not, that wouldn't change.

Things _had_ changed, things that neither of them could control. But this? This Shiro _could_ control.

So he would.


End file.
